Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. “An uncle in New York is dead, and has left him loads of money. ” “I began to be afraid you might not come at all. He was not there. One night she apparently fell asleep. “Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek. ” Ann Veronica made no answer.
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